


The Tie Conspiracy

by nekosmuse_archive (nekosmuse)



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: M/M, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23776288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive
Summary: Written pre 2005. Posting for archival purposes.Light bulb moment.
Relationships: Martin Fitzgerald/Danny Taylor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	The Tie Conspiracy

_Federal Plaza, Manhattan. Monday, 2:18 p.m._  
  
  
Shortly before his thirteenth birthday, his father came home from an extended business trip wearing a grey suit, complete with a blue and grey striped tie.  
  
Having never before taken notice of his father's attire, Martin can safely say that he probably wouldn't have noticed it on this occasion, except for the fact that his mother was also dressed in grey, and was wearing a grey and blue striped scarf, neatly tied around her neck.  
  
It was uncanny. So much so that Martin couldn't help but notice it, and wonder at it, and then (given that he was a not-quite thirteen year-old boy) demand that his father change before accompanying them to dinner --an early birthday dinner at Martin's favourite restaurant and there was no way in hell he was going to let his parents embarrass him in front of all (two) of his friends.  
  
It wasn't the last such incidence of his parents dressing alike (in fact, Martin's fairly certain it wasn't the first, either, but it was the first that he noticed, so he's chosen to ignore any potential transgressions that occurred prior to that day). Looking back now, Martin can recall seeing his parents in nearly matching outfits on some twenty-three separate occasions.  
  
He asked his Aunt Bonnie about it once (on the day that he discovered her wearing a casual pair of jeans and white sweater, his uncle in practically the same outfit) and she'd told him that, sometimes, couples who had been together for an extended period of time subconsciously developed the same taste in clothing. It was inevitable, then, that these couples would eventually choose to wear similar outfits at the same time, often without realizing it.  
  
Martin thought the concept was ridiculous, laughable even, but there were his parents, and now his aunt and uncle, so obviously there had to be something behind the theory.  
  
Unsurprisingly, this soon formed into an obsession. He began to notice other couples; random strangers he saw on the street, his parents' friends, his friends' parents, and later, just after he'd started college, Martin was introduced to his sister's boyfriend and, low and behold, they were both wearing matching Yale Ivy League Athletics sweatshirts.  
  
It was then that Martin vowed never to succumb to the temptation himself. He started selecting his wardrobe based entirely on the probability of someone else owning something similar --and if the end result meant that he was horribly outdated, then so be it.  
  
So careful was he that Martin can only recall two occasions where he'd been caught dressed in a similar matter to the person he was dating. The first was in his final year of college, when he and his then girlfriend had gone to a Halloween party in matching cheerleader outfits, and Martin's fairly certain that doesn't count (although, looking back on it now, Martin suspects that he probably should have clued in to his not-quite-as-straight-as-he-suspected sexuality long before he actually did).  
  
The second was during his stay at Quantico, but there they were given uniforms, so Martin never once questioned the fact that he and his then boyfriend were constantly dressed alike.  
  
Aside from that, he can recall no other incidences. Until now, that is.  
  
And what's really funny (not so much in a 'ha, ha' kind of way, but rather a 'huh, how odd' kind of way) is that he didn't even notice. Not until Vivian pointed it out, anyway, and one would think (especially given how long he's been aware of the phenomena) that he would have noticed, and done everything in his power to prevent it from happening.  
  
Apparently, that is not the case.  
  
Because he here is, wearing a simple charcoal-coloured suit, complete with a striking (at least, that's what Sam called it when she commented on it this morning) red tie, and across the room, not ten feet away, Danny is wearing the _exact_ same outfit.  
  
And okay, they're not identical (Danny's suit is slightly darker, his tie entirely more intricate) but they're close enough that Vivian felt the need to comment on it, and that? Should not have happened.  
  
The fact that they're dressed alike isn't nearly as unnerving as the knowledge that he let it happen. What's worse, Martin's still not entirely sure how it _did_ happen.  
  
He bought the tie on Saturday (without Danny, so he knows Danny couldn't have possibly bought its twin) and he doesn't remember Danny owning a red tie (although, for all Martin knows, he does, and maybe Martin bought his tie because it reminded him of Danny and Danny's potentially non-existent tie). Their suits are fairly standard (he's seen about twelve other people wearing something similar) so he knows they shouldn't occasion too much alarm (except that they do, because Martin doesn't remember owning a charcoal suit and...)  
  
Oh.  
  
That explains a lot, actually.  
  
And here he thought he'd simply put on some weight.  
  
~*~  
  
 _Danny's Apartment, Queens. Monday, 5:45 a.m._  
  
  
Danny really needs to invest in some light bulbs.  
  
Martin was here last week when the one in the bedroom went out (two days after the one in the bathroom, and four days after the one in the kitchen) and he's been here every day since and Danny still hasn't replaced them. He knows Danny's not lazy (Danny, Martin quickly discovered, has boundless energy) so that only leaves the possibility (probability) that Danny simply doesn't own any light bulbs.  
  
Which wouldn't actually surprise Martin, because Danny's never seemed to care if his house was stocked with the necessities of life (three weeks into their relationship Martin finally caved and began stocking Danny's fridge with milk and bread just so that he could have breakfast in the mornings). In fact, Martin's fairly certain Danny hasn't even noticed.  
  
Martin has, though, and in addition to eating in the dark, showering in the dark, and dressing in the dark, Martin is now faced with finding his shoes in the dark (the light in the hallway having just gone out). It's enough that Martin's tempted to suggest they start spending the night at Martin's apartment (something that Danny seems loath to do --something about Sam and not wanting to sleep in a bed she's slept in; a concept that Danny can't seem to get past, despite the passage of years and Martin's assurances that he's since bought new sheets). Either that or he's going to need to go out and buy the damn things himself.  
  
Either way, anything has to be better than this, Martin thinks, cursing inwardly as he sorts through the pile of shoes at the front door (and only Danny would own more shoes than Martin's last girlfriend) for the only pair that Martin can claim as his own.  
  
It probably wouldn't be so bad if they weren't rushing, but Jack called (two hours before their alarm was scheduled to go off) and demanded their presence in the office, and when Jack says jump, Martin jumps.  
  
Danny, on the other hand, saunters, taking his time when he really should be hurrying and Martin's already in his coat when Danny finally emerges from the bathroom.  
  
"Sorry, showering in the dark is a pain in the ass," Danny tells him, and Martin's tempted to laugh.  
  
He doesn't, settling instead on shaking his head before tossing a pair of shoes in Danny's general direction. Danny catches them mid-air, frowning slightly before shrugging and sliding them on. Martin's impatience has reached an all time high by the time Danny's ready to leave.  
  
"My car's out front; I'll drive," Martin says, not bothering to check the irritation in his tone (Danny should be used to it, after all, because Martin's been spending the night for close to a year now; more than enough time for Danny to figure out that Martin's not a morning person).  
  
They're halfway to the office before it fades, Martin shifting uncomfortably in the driver's seat, his pants a shade too tight and Martin chastises himself for allowing Danny to talk him into that thing with the whipped cream.  
  
~*~  
  
 _Federal Plaza, Manhattan. Monday, 2:22 p.m._  
  
He gets Danny's attention the only way he knows how (well, not the only way, but the only way that doesn't involve violating half a dozen or so fraternization rules). A simple look and a single nod and Danny's following him into the men's room, his smirk entirely too conspicuous and Martin really needs to give that lecture on the benefits of subtlety.  
  
Probably sooner than later, Martin amends as he watches Danny check the stalls, pushing each one open with a deafening crash before he finally turns back to Martin and arches an eyebrow.  
  
"That's not why we're here," Martin tells him, not missing the brief flicker of disappointment that ghosts over Danny's features. It's been weeks since he last gave in to Danny's odd preoccupation with workplace sex.  
  
"Can't blame me for trying," Danny counters, eyeing Martin somewhat suggestively and no, not going there. "You do look hot today, after all," Danny finishes, sway in his walk as he crosses the room and... No, still not going there.  
  
"Danny," Martin reproaches, taking a step back, away from Danny's nimble hands. "And in case you haven't noticed, I look hot today because I'm wearing your clothes," Martin continues, ignoring the impulse to point out Danny's unintended insult.  
  
The comment appears to work, because Danny stops, hands dropping to his sides, and he's no longer advancing like he's planning on jumping Martin and pinning him against the sinks. Instead he looks perplexed; confused even and Martin waits, counting down the seconds until...  
  
"Huh."  
  
Jackpot.  
  
"You see how this could be construed as a problem?" Martin can't help but ask, feeling more than just a little vindicated when Danny nods.  
  
"I'm sure no one's noticed. I mean..."  
  
"Vivian noticed."  
  
He's never actually seen Danny speechless before. He's seen Danny awestruck, and shocked, and completely baffled, but never speechless. It's kind of a good look on him, actually and... Again, still not going there.  
  
"Obviously I can't go home and change now, but tonight, you're buying light bulbs," Martin tells him.  
  
Danny still looks somewhat startled, but he nods, his dazed expression eventually clearing and Martin doesn't miss the corner of his lip twitching with the impulse to laugh. Martin thinks, idly, that he should probably be upset by Danny's amusement.  
  
He's not, though, and it is kind of funny. So much so that he soon finds himself echoing Danny's smile, the full implications of the situation finally hitting him. He manages to keep from laughing, but only just, shaking his head before nodding in the direction of the door. He makes it all of two steps before Danny stops him, Danny reaching forward, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to almost the exact spot he'd been standing when their conversation began.  
  
"Danny," he warns, but he knows (mostly from the expression on Danny's face) that his tone is nowhere near as serious as he wants it to be.  
  
"I think it's safe to assume that they've already figured us out," Danny tells him. "So I don't think anyone's going to question why we've disappeared into the bathroom for twenty minutes, or even why, when we do go back out, our suits are going to be wrinkled," Danny finishes, expression pleading and Martin's never been able to resist that look.  
  
Besides, who can argue with that kind of logic?  
  
Certainly not him, and the only protest that comes to mind is:  
  
"Only twenty minutes?"


End file.
